


What You Wanted

by TigerDragon1001



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen, Vivisection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:24:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerDragon1001/pseuds/TigerDragon1001





	What You Wanted

His, its, frantic movements within the giant tube, and the antennae desperately running over the glass surface, searching for a fault, a dent, any kind of weak spot that would aid in its escape, reminded Dib of when he had caught moths and beetles and all other sorts of insect as a child. Of course, that was before he had killed and mounted them on his board. It wasn’t that he was sadistic; he simply found it fascinating to study them. Especially the inner workings of them. A few of his choice specimens were framed and hung on the wall, their guts exposed and on display. How ironic that this alien would end up just like them.

A faint hiss escaped the tube as a gas was pumped inside, temporarily stunning the hapless creature. A pair of huge metal tongs picked it up by the waist and placed it onto the metal table. It twitched as its clothes were removed and its wrists and ankles were anchored to the table, its PAK slotting into a dip in the metal to allow it to be inspected more easily. It wasn’t supposed to be stunned for longer than a few minutes; just enough time to prepare and restrain it.

He watched as the alien jolted out of its short stupor, gasping as the cold air rushed to hit his, its, exposed flesh. Its antennae twitched madly as they were bombarded with the smell of human chemicals. Its wide ruby eyes fixed upon Dib, mouth going slightly agape as it realized what it was strapped to. For the first time in its life, it was robbed of its voice by fear. It was going to be cut open alive… 

Dib gulped as he looked down at the green thing on the vivisection table. This was what he wanted right? This was what he’d always wanted. He glanced back at the video camera he had carefully positioned in such a way that it would capture every little detail of the event.

 _‘They might even name your autopsy video after me,’_ a phrase from his first encounter with the alien came back to him. Well, they certainly would now. He was taking the video after all, how could it not be named after him? And it wasn’t ‘autopsy’; that word was only used when dead humans were cut up. This… this little _beast_ was certainly not human… it certainly wasn’t dead either. 

Dib shook his head. His mind was too busy fixing on little details. Little, trivial details. Those weren’t the _point_ , the point was that the alien he had been chasing for years, the paranormal being that would prove once and for all that he wasn’t crazy, was right there in front of him, helpless, unable to escape.

Dib produced a camera from a pocket in his lab coat, and started to take pictures of the little creature from various angles. Its eyes, antennae, claws, nothing went unnoted, everything was recorded in the small electronic device.

He soon set it down and went right up to the table, looming above the insect-like being. You couldn’t complete any kind of external anatomy examination without actually touching the subject. You had to know the texture of its skin, certainly. 

Dib lowered his hands till they were hovering above the creature’s heaving chest. He knew how much it hated being touched, even through fabric. It was a very unnerving situation; it had displayed such human-like emotions that he had come to know it, its likes and dislikes and- NO. This was NOT a human. IT was NOT a person. It was NOT someone he had gotten to know almost as well as a friend, merely some _thing_ he had carefully been observing.

He narrowed his eyes and shoved his hands down onto his, ITS, chest with much more force than he had intended. It yelped out. A very _inhuman_ sound, he reminded himself. Lessening the pressure, he ran his hands over the skin. Strangely enough, it was warm. He had expected it to be cold-blooded; the most similar animals on Earth to this one were insects. The skin didn’t feel like a human’s though. It felt similar to something he couldn’t quite place. His finger moved up and down over the same spot as he tried to think of its likeness. The alien cringed with every stroke, making little sounds of discomfort at the back of its throat. 

The noises attracted Dib’s attention, and he looked at its face. His mind’s eye superimposed the image of it in its human disguise. He immediately looked away again. It was too weird… Even though that face was definitely not human, with its disguise there was just that hint of humanity, a hint just prominent enough to unsettle him. If it was a human, this whole thing would be all kinds of wrong. Unethical; the actions still to come would definitely be counted as torture, and hell, just the simple touches could be considered molestation. 

_‘But it’s not a human.’_

His free fist clenched, and he continued to prod and poke the squirming creature. 

A maggot. That’s what he, it, felt like. A horrible little maggot, like the ones you would spear on the end of a fish hook. 

“That’s all you are,” he said aloud, his voice raising as he continued. “You’re just a little maggot! A disgusting… little… _maggot!_ ”

He had shrieked out the last word. He wasn’t even sure who, or what, he was yelling at. The ‘little maggot’ pressed its antennae flat against its head at the painfully high pitch the teenager had reached. 

The outburst had, in the alien’s opinion, rendered the situation a lot less frightening. Seeing the unease, the indecision on the human’s face, curled the corners of its mouth up into the faintest of smirks. 

“Losing your nerve, Dib-stink?” that long tongue flicked out between its fang-like mandibles with every word. “Not surprising, considering you are an inferior species after all.”

Dib froze and looked at it. Why did it have to speak? Why did it have to remind him that it was sentient? That he was about to vivisect a sentient being?

No, that didn’t matter. This _monster_ had caused him so much hurt, so much anguish. He had been promoted from the freak who was interested in the paranormal to the stalker freak that had an obsession with the green kid. Sentient or not, it deserved to die. 

“Me? Inferior?” he replied, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m not the one strapped to an autopsy table.”

“It’s vivisection table actually,” it retorted. “I’m still alive.”

It was remarkably cocky for someone, something, which had been frozen in fear mere minutes ago. 

He glared at the insolent thing. If he didn’t do something about it now, it’d just get him all riled up. They’d end up arguing and it’d escape. That’s what it always did. Dib wrapped his fingers around a scalpel and raised it. The artificial lighting glinted off it menacingly. 

The creature’s smirk evaporated once more. Dib had never actually raised a proper weapon at it before. Handcuffs, yes. Water, yes. A lamp, yes. But a knife? Never.  
Its eyes widened with dread as the blade got closer and closer. It pulled against the shackles wildly, as if by some miracle its hands and feet would shrink and escape their grip. The very tip of the cold instrument pushed into the flesh just below its collar bone. It went rigid. 

_‘But if you hate him so much, why do you hesitate?’_

A second voice niggled at the back of his mind. 

“I’m not hesitating!” 

The blade dug through the skin, pink alien blood bubbling up around it. 

“I hate _it!_ ”

The blade went deeper. 

_“I hate you!”_

The blade sliced all the way down its torso, down to its abdomen.

Pulsing organs were revealed to him, glistening pink from where he’d ruptured some of them with his rough handling of the scalpel. He wasn’t amazed, wasn’t fascinated by what he saw. He was sickened, disgusted, ashamed with himself. 

His ears had filtered out the alien’s screams until he looked into its eyes, his blade still pushing down through the tissue. Every screech earned a stabbing pain in his chest. He looked into that familiar face, utterly horrified. What was he doing? This alien, _ZIM_ , had been his only motivation in life, his only mission, his only _friend._ And he was killing it, no, _him._

The knife dropped from his hand. 

Zim was still screaming.


End file.
